The First of Summer '88
by ChuckingDaffodils
Summary: 'When I heard her speak, my insides got all tingly. I had no idea why at the moment, but I think maybe I'm in love with her..." Draco Malfoy discovers what first love is in summer 1988. DracoxOC. DMxHG for epilogue: ties in with early chapters.
1. PureBloods of Great Britain'

A\N: Yes, finally. I've been waiting a long time to find the time to write another HP fanfic. This one is briefly titled Falling Slowly after the song from Once, until I think of something better. It's about a young Draco Malfoy and OC. Enjoy (and please R&R :D)!

Disclaimer for all chapters: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter. I think it's quite obvious, as I am writing fanfiction and not multi-million selling books.

* * *

**_Chapter One: Pure-Bloods Of Great Britain_**

On a particularly balmy afternoon in late June 1988, Draco Malfoy was sitting cross-legged upon the green sheets of his canopy bed, and thumbing through the pages of a very large and a very old book, a recent birthday gift from his parents.

"Come in." Draco replied absent-mindedly to the knock on his door. In strode Lucius Malfoy, his blond hair pulled back in its customary ponytail and his hard gray eyes fixed upon his young son.

"Draco, your mother and I are planning a trip to Borgin's this evening. Would you like us to purchase anything for you?' he asked, still standing next to the open door. Draco remained silent, and turned the page of his book. 'What book is that, son?' Lucius now was approaching the large bed on the opposite side of the room. 'Ah,' he continued as he lifted the cover of the book. 'Pure-Bloods of Great Britain. Fascinating book, that is. A favorite of mine when I was your age.."

Lucius let go of the cover and fixed his eyes upon Draco again. Several moments passed in silence. Finally, Draco lifted the book off his lap (with great difficulty) and set it next to him on the bed. Turning to face his father, gray eyes meeting gray eyes, Draco spoke:

"Father, may I visit Knockturn Alley with you and Mother this evening?"

"Draco, I'm afraid not; your mother and I have a rather important meeting with some former Deat- ...er, colleagues of mine at Borgin & Burkes this evening, so its best you don't tag along.' Lucius replied sternly. 'And your Mother has a chore for you to complete while we are out."

"A chore!' Draco whined. 'Why can't that useless house-elf do it?"

"You must be the one to complete this chore, Draco,' Lucius responded calmly. 'For I believe it would be quite difficult for Dobby to do. Your Mother wishes that you go into the garden and find Dobby, as he has run out of the house yet again. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Well, please do it as soon as possible; the longer you wait, the longer the house sits, in desperate need of tidying up."

"Yes, Father" Draco waited for his Father to leave the room, then pulled his book back onto his lap. He spent several moments like this, in utter silence. Then the voice of his Father rang through the Manor:

"Draco Malfoy, now!"

Draco shut his book and scurried out of his room, down the stairs, and through the back door.

--------

"Blimey, where in Merlin's mind could that stupid elf be?" Draco muttered to himself as he poked through the Flutterby bushes along the fence.

An hour and a half later, Draco flopped down on the bench under the canopy next to the grand fountain in the middle of the yard. He had already searched the entire garden, including the hedge maze, twice, and he was exhausted. Turning his head to the left, Draco caught sight of the Quidditch pitch his Father had given him when he had turned 6. _"No way am I going __**all**__ the way over there_" thought Draco as he rested his pointed chin on the palm of his right hand. Looking around the garden, Draco spotted a tiny garden gnome and watched it run around the yard, as if it were a Muggle under the Imperius curse. Draco laughed as it tripped and fell into the Flutterby bushes. However, when the gnome didn't re-appear several minutes later, Draco got up from the bench and peered under the bush where the gnome had disappeared, expecting to see it unconscious.

But what Draco found under the bushes was a hole between the dirt and the fence about the size of his fist. A mix of curiosity and jealousy of the gnome rained over Draco instantly: _Where did this hole end up_?

"Oh, how can I make this hole bigger?' Draco wondered to himself.

'You git.' he answered back to himself. 'are you a wizard or not?'

'But I don't even have a real wand yet; and besides, even if I did, I wouldn't know what to say!' Draco whined.

'Just focus on making the hole bigger,' he answered himself again. 'If you're so dense that you're insulting yourself, Draco..." he paused.

"Blimey, I've gone mental."

Draco shook his head in an effort to get rid of the voice in his head. He then closed his eyes and focused on expanding the hole. He knew how difficult it was for young wizards and witches to control magic, and so he set all of his mind on making the hole bigger.

It worked.

Draco opened his eyes and saw that the hole was now as wide as Dobby the house-elf was tall. Draco crawled into the hole and discovered a rather long tunnel awaited him, all pitch-black. So Draco, obviously unaware of where the tunnel was headed, started moving forward.

* * *

A/N: So that's Chapter one! I started the first part around noon and then wrote the rest down (along with Chapter 2 and half of Chapter 3) in a journal when my parents decided to go shopping downtown! Yeah...

So let me know what you guys think! Next chapter is coming soon. And if anyone has a good idea for a title, please let me know, your suggestions are most welcome.


	2. The Great Contraption

Chapter 2: The Great Contraption

* * *

Long awaiting the end of the tunnel, Draco was relieved when he saw a bright light shining. Once he had reached the spot of light, Draco crawled out of the hole. Looking around, he realized he must have ended up in someone else's yard, as only 50 feet away was a lone house with a rather odd contraption in the backyard. Draco approached the yard carefully for a better look at the contraption, but when he was only about 15 feet away from the yard, he ducked behind a large bush. He could see the yard clearly now; a young girl, no more than Draco's age, was settled upon a seat held up by only two thin, chain-like things that was part of the giant piece of equipment. The girl was moving towards and away from the bush where Draco sat.

For no particular reason that Draco was aware of, something in his mind urged him to stay behind the bush. As it got darker, the lights in the girl's yard turned on and the girl stopped moving away and towards Draco.

"Time to come in, Dear!" cried a woman's voice, that Draco assumed was the girl's mother.

"Coming, Granny!" replied the girl as she got up from her seat.

Something about the girl's voice made Draco's insides go tingly. He felt an urge to go and introduce himself to the girl. Draco stepped out from behind the bush, but ducked behind as soon as he had stepped out.'_ If this girl had seen me_, he thought, _what would she have said?_'

'_Some strange kid has been watching me, Granny!_' Draco imagined her saying. Then Granny, whom Draco imagined as a large, beefy woman, would release a group of acromentula with an appetite for young boys hiding behind bushes.

The girl's eyes lingered over the bush where Draco was hiding. He held his breath and watched as she shook off the fact she probably might have seen a face there, and skipped into her house.

-----

Draco climbed out of the tunnel into the yard. He opened the backdoor and met the house-elf.

"Where were you, Dobby?' Draco scolded. 'I've been looking all over the yard for you."

"Dobby is sorry, Master Draco.' squeaked the house-elf. 'Dobby was looking for a flower to put on the table; Dobby is very sorry, Master Draco. Dobby will go iron his hands now, Sir." And with that, Dobby left the room.

Draco went upstairs to his bedroom and changed into his pyjamas. He went over to his desk and pulled out a quill & the diary- a gift from his Great-Aunt Virgo that his mother insisted he used.

So Draco sat upon his bed, quill in hand, and opened the diary, which Draco preferred to call a journal.

_June 1988_

_Dear Journal,_

_I know that my last entry was a promise that I wouldn't use you ever again, but something happened tonight that has never happened before..._

Draco then proceeded to tell the entire story to his journal, pouring every ounce of his heart into it, and finished with:

_When I heard her speak, Journal, my insides got all tingly. I had no idea why at the moment, but I think I'm in love with her... and I don't even know her name._

_- Draco M._

With a great flourish, Draco shut the diary, stood up on his bed and dropped it behind the headboard, so that his Mother and Father would never be able to find it. Sitting down, Draco started to wonder about the girl. What was her name? How old was she?

These questions and many more swam in Draco's head as he fell asleep.

* * *

A/N: So there's Chapter 2, what do you think? Chapter 3 in progress..


	3. Advice From Grandmother

A/N: I would like to thank Jewels66, DancingHippogriff and JainaZekk621 for their reviews. Here's Chapter 3, I'm so excited to write it.

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**Chapter 3: Advice from Grandmother**

"Good morning, Draco."

At the sound of his mother's voice, Draco sat up. His mother was at the side of his bed, hands clasped around a roll of parchment that was tied together with a mangy maroon ribbon. That, and the fact that Narcissa was wearing her best dress robes (green silk with embroidery on the cuffs) meant only one thing:

"Is Grandmother Malfoy coming for breakfast, Mother?" asked Draco.

"Not coming, Draco. She is here already." answered Ms. Malfoy, her back straightening so that it was now as straight as the wall behind her.

Draco left his bed and ran to his wardrobe. '_What a great time for Grandmother to visit_,' he thought, finding his dress robes on the left-hand side. He pulled off his pyjamas and tossed them to the bottom of his wardrobe and pulled his dress robes over his head. He went into the bathroom and opened the large cabinet across from the open door, finding his newest and fanciest jar of hair gel. He opened the jar, albight with some difficulty, scooped out a teaspoon amount of gel, rubbed his fingertips together, and then slicked his hair back like his father had showed him four years earlier. Draco took extra care in making sure every hair stayed flat upon his head; Grandmother Malfoy may have excellent advice, but she was still a stickler for detail.

* * *

"Good morning, Draco." Grandmother Malfoy croaked as Draco approached the top of the grand staircase in the front foyer.

"Good morning, Grandmother!" Draco answered, rushing down the stairs to greet his grandmother. She was a short woman who was barely taller than her son's waist. She stood next to the elaborate ebony staircase railing, one hand on the rail and the other clutched tightly around her thin and frail cane. Reaching the foot of the stairs, Draco crouched down, for he was more than a foot taller than Grandmother Malfoy, and gave his dear grandmother a quick, gentle hug. After restoring himself to his original height, Draco stepped aside to stand next to his father, awaiting his mother's arrival.

"Good morning, Cassiopeia." Without Draco's awareness, his mother had descended down the staircase after him. Her back was as rigid as it had been when she had announced Grandmother Malfoy's arrival not 10 minutes earlier.

"Good morning, Narcissa." Grandmother Malfoy's eyes scanned Narcissa for any minor flaw to critique. But Narcissa had prepared for this event in advance: her hair was as a smooth and just as much in place as her husband's and son's, and her dress robe was crisp, with no loose threads or mysterious spots.

Dobby the house-elf entered the room through the dining room door. "Breakfast is ready, Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy, Master Malfoy." Dobby scampered out of the foyer, avoiding eye contact with Grandmother Malfoy.

"Shall we enter the dining room then, Mother?" Lucius offered his arm to his mother, and they went into the dining room. Draco followed suit and offered his right arm to his mother, who still looked tense from her encounter with Grandmother Malfoy.

* * *

"Really, Lucius, this house-elf is so young and chipper... however did you find him?" commented Grandmother Malfoy as Dobby served appetizers.

"Ah, actually,' Draco's father replied from the head of the table, 'it was a wedding gift from Narcissa's great-aunt; he is the son of their house-elf."

Grandmother Malfoy's face changed emotion immediately.

"I see,' she said as Dobby approached her with a pitcher of water, his knees wobbling under the weight. 'Well, he is a clumsy fellow; my dear friend Elladora, God rest her soul, started a wonderful tradition, where she beheaded weak and helpless house-elves."

Dobby, who had just started pouring water into Grandmother Malfoy's glass, whimpered and shook. Lucky for him, Draco's grandmother had not noticed. She had begun discussing her favorite topic with Narcissa: how Narcissa's older sister Bellatrix was now imprisoned Azkaban, the wizarding prison, and how Narcissa's younger sister, Andromeda, had married a Muggle. Draco drifted in and out of the conversation while he picked at his scrambled dragon eggs: he was dying to tell Grandmother about his discovery last night, and if there was any way that he could make contact with the girl without freaking her out.

"And your sister, a blood-traitor, imagine; in _my_ family, none of my descendants would ever dream to abandon their pure-blood status for such a trivial thing as love.' Grandmother Malfoy critiqued, a wide smile on her face as she watched Narcissa stare at her plate piled with kippers, eggs and toast, none of which had been touched. 'I do hope that your sister does not leave any impression on our Draco."

The same scenario basically described the rest of the hour; Draco sat at his chair, sifting through his breakfast, for he had little appetite after the insults from his Grandmother to his mother. Lucius sat and observed the argument happening between his wife and mother, and Draco's mother simply sat, lips pursed and ignoring the abuse coming from her mother-in-law. Finally, after Grandmother Malfoy had run out of things to complain about to Narcissa, Lucius announced that he and his wife had very important errands to run.

"Well, Cassiopeia,' Narcissa held open the dinging room door. 'It has been a pleasure, but I'm afraid you must be leaving now."

"No!' cried Draco, jumping up from his large seat. All three adults turned their attention to Draco. 'I mean, Grandmother and I hardly spend any time together." Narcissa and Lucius nodded, and left through the large door in the foyer.

Grandmother Malfoy's face brightened. "My Draco, I would love to spend this afternoon with you. I have to go down to Madame Malkin's for a fitting.' She glanced at Draco's dress robes. 'Draco, dear, who purchased this robe set for you?"

"Mother."

"I see,' Grandmother Malfoy hesitated. 'Well, we must purchase you new robes, these are unsuitable. "

"But Grandmother, I just want to talk, I don't need-"

"My Draco, I am afraid there is no time for chat now, I am due at Madame Malkin's at 11 AM. Where is your fireplace, I have decided I would like to use the Floo network today."

* * *

Moments later, Draco arrived with his grandmother in the fireplace of Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. As she wobbled over to Madame Malkin's desk to announce that she had arrived, Draco wandered into a small room where his Mother had taken him once before. It was filled with dress robes for young wizards. Usually Draco dreaded being dragged into this room; it meant that endless hours of trying on itchy and stifling robes would ensue. But this time, Draco flipped through the robes, looking for something nice to wear if he ever got enough courage to talk to the girl. But none of the robes were nice enough.

'_This one is too frilly; too yellow; too smelly._'thought Draco. '_Blimey, why is nothing here suitable enough? What should I wear, then?_' He sighed, and much to his relief, Grandmother Malfoy entered the room and beckoned Draco to follow him.

* * *

Sensing that Draco had something on his mind, Grandmother Malfoy bought him a large sundae at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

"My Draco, what is on your mind?' asked Grandmother Malfoy as he stared at the vanilla scoop of ice cream. 'You normally enjoy vanilla ice cream."

That was not true. Draco had never enjoyed vanilla ice cream, or any other frosty treat for that matter. He easily succumbed to nasty brain freezes whenever he came too close to anything frozen. However, he was still very hungry, and was delighted when Florean Fortescue himself brought out a fresh chocolate brownie. Draco started to devour it quickly, but saw his grandmother's scolding look and began taking dainty little nibbles, much like a very polite rabbit and her carrot.

Draco swallowed the last of his brownie and cleared his throat.

"Grandmother, how do you approach a girl that you think is pretty?" he asked. His Grandmother did not ridicule his question, nor did she beam at his wonderful and sudden gain of courage. She simply sat there, her wrinkled face in deep thought. Draco played with his spoon, now resting in a sticky mess of melting sundae.

After a few long moments of silence, Grandmother Malfoy spoke up.

"My Draco,' she started, resting both wrinkly hands on Draco's left hand. Her hands felt like soft prunes upon Draco's cold hand, and he felt comfortable. 'The best way to approach a girl you like is to do it when you feel the time is right. You do not have to make it fancy, nor must you dress in your shabbiest robes like that scoundrel Mundungus Fletcher." Grandmother paused, scowling at a past memory that was replaying in her head.

"But Grandmother, if I have been watching- er, I mean, admiring this girl from afar- how am I to approach her?" Draco cut into his grandmother's memory.

Grandmother Malfoy did not answer immediately. Instead, she reached over for the bill and paid 2 Sickles and a Knut. She struggled up to her feet with the help of her cane and the wicker table, and began making her way back to Madame Malkin's. As Draco followed her, she offered her answer to his question:

"My Draco, simply be yourself. Your charming, wonderful self."

* * *

A/N: Okay, the last line is slightly cheesy, I'll admit it. But Grandmother Malfoy is an old pruny witch without much of a flair for adjectives. 

Work starts for me in three days and a bit, so I am writing as many chapters as I can tonight. Chapter 4 will be much shorter than this.


	4. Wizard Warnings

A/N: Thanks to DancingHippogriff and JainaZekk621 for their reviews of Chapter 3 this morning. DancingHippogriff: Grandmother Malfoy is referring to Andromeda, Tonks' mom; JainaZekk621, Draco is 8 years old throughout the majority of this story. :)

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**Chapter Four: Wizard's Warning**

The next morning was a drizzly Sunday. Narcissa was still upset about Grandmother Malfoy's comments the day before, and was angry with Lucius for having supported his mother's opinions.

"So now the truth comes out, Lucius!' Draco heard his mother's voice scream louder than it had ever gone before. Draco was up in his bedroom, hiding under the covers. He knew eight year olds, especially those descended from the most valuable line of pure-bloods, shouldn't be cowering under their bed sheets for trivial things like these, but Draco figured what his father didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"I do not hate Bellatrix, Narcissa.' Lucius calmly replied, albight in a louder tone than his wife's. 'I simply believe that..."

Draco, feeling tired of his parent's unnecessary arguing, left his bedroom and descended the stairs to see what was going on, as the house was now silent, with the exception of the pitter-patter of raindrops on the window. To his relief, his mother and father were no longer standing opposite each other, wands in hand. They were now seated in the study, chatting and raced back up the stairs to his bedroom; after all, he was to make the most of this rainy day. He went into the back of his wardrobe and pulled out his worn jeans and a baggy gray jumper. He then snuck into his Father's upstairs study, pulled open the bottom drawer and took out the enchanted telescope. He ran down the hallway outside the study until he stopped at the big picture window overlooking the garden, and held the telescope to his eye. Adjusting it properly, he saw the yard of the girl, who was luckily standing outside next to her beloved great contraption. She was wearing a bright yellow raincoat and holding a purple umbrella. Draco held his breath: the girl was obviously sad that it was raining, but he didn't feel sorry for her. He felt sorry for himself, sorry that he couldn't be over there, under that umbrella with her. If she was cold, Draco would give up his jumper for her.

"_My, Draco, what a very sweet thing for you to do!"_ He imagined her gush over his chivalry. _Suddenly, a ginormous troll would come out of nowhere. The girl would shriek and cower behind Draco. 'Never fear!' Draco would cry. 'I am a highly powerful wizard and I will save you!' And so Draco would do that. When the troll was completely unconscious, the girl would rush over to Draco and give him a big hug. "Oh, Draco,' she would say, 'I love you. You are my hero, Master Draco. Your mother wants you to come eat lunch."_

"Master Draco?"

Draco snapped out of his dreamy trance and addressed the house-elf. "Yes, Dobby, what is it?"

"Your m-mother would like you to come down for lunch now."

Draco dropped the telescope as he wandered down the hallway. '_Me, Draco Malfoy, a hero?' _he thought. _'The one who gets the girl? Imagine that. I should go down there as soon as possible so that I can protect her of any oncoming trolls.'_.

"Snap out of it, Draco,' he told himself as he went down the spiral staircase that led into the kitchen. 'You need to get friends. Real friends that you can talk to, so you don't end up insane, in Azkaban."

* * *

"Ah, nice to see you could finally join us, Draco." Lucius said curtly as Draco opened the dining room door. As opposed to yesterday, Lucius and Narcissa were not sitting at opposite ends of the grand table in the end chairs; instead, they were sitting next to each other in the two smaller chairs closest to the kitchen door. Draco pulled up a chair across the table from where his parent's sat, and was immediately served what appeared to look like a tuna sandwich., though Draco wasn't quite sure whether or not tuna were supposed to have two long tentacles slithering about from its hindquarters.

The three Malfoys sat in silence. Lucius was flipping through the Sunday edition of The Daily Prophet. Narcissa was stirring what appeared to be a large glass of Gillywater, and Draco sat, sandwich still untouched on the plate in front of him. He glanced at the headlines on The Daily Prophet:

**WIZARDS WARNED TO KEEP IDENTITIES SAFE**

"Father, why are wizards warned to keep their identities safe?" asked Draco, breaking the silence.

"Ah,' Lucius' voice became friendlier, for explaining why the Malfoys were better than other people made him quite happy. 'You see, Draco, not too long ago, in London, some unidentified wizards revealed to some non-magic folk, or 'Muggles', that they were beings of magic. Now, a stunt like that is very dangerous to us wizards and witches."

"Why, Father?" Draco was suddenly much more interested in this news story than in his sandwich, which had made it off the plate and was now making its way down the table with the help of the tentacles sprouting from its backside.

"Because, Draco, Muggles are rather unintelligent beings, especially compared to pure-bloods like our family. They are also very protective of themselves; and they are also very cowardly. So, if a group of wizards were to march up to a strange Muggle and tell that muggle that they are all wizards, the Muggle would become scared, and very often will do something to harm the wizard for their own safety.'

'One of these wizards brainless enough to reveal his magical powers was also very weak and not carrying a wand with him at the time; he landed himself in St Mungo's with many Muggle injuries, such as...' Lucius opened the paper and read from the article. ' "A broken jaw, a fractured collarbone, two broken arms and a black-eye." ' Draco gasped, mainly because he really had no idea what any of those injuries were, but they sounded absolutely dreadful.

"Lucius, honey,' spoke Narcissa sweetly. 'does The Ministry have any knowledge of which wizards would be daft enough to reveal their identity?"

Lucius scoffed. "Of course they do, Narcissa. The Ministry knows everything. They simply do not entrust that information with the general public, and as a result, the families of those idiots are spared a lifetime of mocking. Personally, I think that one of the men was that Arthur Weasley, what a disgrace to wizards..."

"The Weasleys?' Draco asked. 'Who are they?"

Lucius scoffed a second time. "A pure-blood family who are friendly with Muggles and Muggle-borns. All the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

"All of them, Father?' Draco was very much into this conversation now; aside from his close relatives and some old colleagues of his Father's, Draco had never heard of other Wizarding families. 'How many Weasleys are there?"

"About 9 or 10.' Lucius replied, obviously becoming bored with the subject. 'That prat Arthur used to show me pictures of his children a long time ago, until I 'helped' him get another job in the Ministry, one where he would stop bothering me on my daily visits to the Minister."

Narcissa sneered. She was now standing over Lucius, and was stroking his hair. "Seven children, what a mistake on their part. Good thing we only have our Draco."

Lucius scoffed a third time. "Indeed, Narcissa. Seven children, imagine..." Lucius folded the paper and placed it on his left, then turned and looked Draco straight in the eye.

"'Now, Draco, on Friday evening, some colleagues of mine will be coming over for dinner. They are the Crabbes and the Goyles. The whole purpose of this dinner is to help you meet friends, as I have noticed recently that you have taken to talking to yourself more often than neccessary." Draco nodded, feeling ashamed of himself.

'_Talking to yourself is for muggles and blood traitors. Not young pure-bloods like myself._' he thought to himself as his father continued to talk.

"...And unless you would like to become 'friends' with your half-blood cousin, Nymphadora, I suggest you take control of young Crabbe and Goyle before they take control of you.' Lucius commanded in a hard tone, which turned lighter suddenly. 'Though I wouldn't expect young Crabbe and Goyle to know how to take control, if they're anything like their fathers, because their fathers are not the brightest pixies in the jar." He smirked to himself and dismissed Draco. Dobby came to clean up Draco's lunch, not noticing that the sandwich had already reached the far end of the table.

* * *

A/N: This chapter is longer than I expected. Next chapter I can't wait to write, but seeing that it is after midnight, I might put a hold on writing it until tomorrow, which really is today.

I've got a few more fanfics in mind with all sorts for pairings. It should keep me occupied for a while when I'm not busy, which is good, I suppose. :)


	5. Love Is a Girl With Big Brown Eyes

A\n: Here's Chapter 5; I've been so excited to write it and it is my favorite chapter so far: enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Five: Love Is A Girl With Big Brown Eyes  
**

Tuesday morning brought sunshine through Draco's window. He woke up bright and early, eager to go outside and introduce himself to the girl.

"_Merlin's pants, what will I say to this girl?' _Draco thought as he sifted through his many shirts and jumpers. _'"Hi, my name is Draco Malfoy. I've been watching you through a magical telescope and from behind a bush, and I think that I am in love with you." "_ Draco bit his lip as he chose the last of his shirts, a deep blue one with short sleeves and a collar.

"_There_,' thought Draco moments later, after changing out of his pajamas and into the shirt and jeans. '_I guess that will do; though, I must say, I really am quite handsome..." _ Draco stood in front of the mirror and straightened his shirt, like his mother often did whenever his family went to important dinners. He decided not to smooth back his hair that day, for no particular reason. With a 'humph' of content, Draco exited his bedroom and snuck down the staircase.

* * *

It was now past noon, and Draco had just climbed out of the tunnel. From where he stood at the mouth of the tunnel, he saw a small figure on the great contraption, moving away and towards him as she had done two nights before.

For a moment, Draco's knees wobbled, and he found no courage to walk towards the girl's yard. But after the moment was up, he felt fine and found enough nerve to make his way towards the yard. 20 feet...15 feet...10 feet... As Draco walked towards the backyard, the girl paused, curious of the identity of this mysterious boy.

Draco was now less than 5 feet away from where the girl stood. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Up close, the girl was even prettier than he had imagined. Her eyes her wide and brown; she had long eyelashes, a cute little nose, and pink lips that were in a slight frown as the girl studied Draco. Her hair was thin and a honey blonde color; Draco preferred it much to his own hair color, which was so blonde that it was closer to being white than yellow.

Draco was at a loss for words. He stood there, gazing at the girl, his mouth slightly open. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. His insides became tingly again, this time more than they had last Saturday.

Finally, after minutes of silence, the girl spoke. "Well, are you gonna introduce yourself?' Her voice was commanding, yet as sweet and as gentle as flower petals floating upon a small pond.

Draco closed his mouth and blinked. He cleared his throat in an effort to seem more masculine, and said, in his deepest voice: "My name is Draco, Draco Malfoy."

He had expected the girl to laugh at his name, to ridicule him. But she did not.

"What's wrong with your voice?" she asked innocently.

Draco cleared his throat again, and kept his eyes locked on the girl's pretty brown ones.

"Nothing.' he answered in his regular voice. He looked down at his feet shyly, as if there was something very interesting written upon them. 'What's your name?" he continued, still gazing at the ground.

"My name is Emily.' she answered gently. 'And I think that your name is really cool."

Draco lifted his gaze off the ground, and met Emily's eyes yet again.

"Thank you, Emily. And I think your name is really....' Draco turned a light shade of pink, and looked back down at the ground. '.. pretty."

"Thank you, Draco.' Emily answered. She too was suddenly just as shy as Draco. 'Would you like to come on my swing set?"

Draco looked over at the great contraption. "What's a '_swing set_'?" he asked.

Emily looked surprised. "You mean, you don't know what a swing set is? Don't you have one?"

Draco blushed again.

"No, my family doesn't have one. We just moved here from, er, America." he fibbed.

"Oh." she replied, slightly sad.

Draco's heart raced. He had made this girl sad, what was he to do?

"You could teach me how to use it." he suggested, and Emily's face lit up, a wide smile blossoming from the frown she had had before. Draco's insides went tingly again.

"Oh, Draco, I would love to!" she squealed, then proceeded to show Draco how to sit on a swing, how to pump himself back and forth, and how to stop.

They swung together until the sun began to set, laughing together as Draco failed to swing himself higher than Emily, and at Emily's silly jumps off the swing.

Draco, who had noticed that the sun had already begun to sink into the horizon, stopped his swing.

Emily stopped, too.

"What's the matter, Draco?' she asked, concerned. 'Are you hurt?"

"No,' he answered, getting up off the swing. 'but it is time for me to go home, I think. My parents must be wondering where I am."

"Oh." Emily replied, disappointed.

Draco's heart raced again.

"I could come back tomorrow." he suggested.

"Oh, Draco, would you?' Emily answered, suddenly more cheerful than before. 'Do you promise?"

Draco hesitated for only a second; then nodded.

"I promise."

Emily squealed and gave Draco a hug; it was small and quick, but was nevertheless still a hug. She waved at him as she went inside her house and as he returned to the passage back under his house, his whole body tingling.

Draco wobbled back through the tunnel, which was very dark, but he hardly noticed. For he definitely knew now what love was: love was a girl, age 8, with honey blonde hair and big brown eyes, named Emily.

* * *

A/N: So that was Chapter 5, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. :)


	6. The Comet 260

**Chapter 6: The Comet 260**

The following two days were basically identical to Tuesday. Draco would leave his house early, arrive at Emily's around 10 am, where they would play for hours on the swing set. Occasionally, they would do other things outside, too; for example, the following day, Wednesday, Emily had led Draco over to the side of her house. To Draco's amazement, there was an actual mini replica of a house, up in one of the big trees.

"It's called a tree house.' Emily had told him knowledgeably. 'My dad built it for me when I was younger... he also built me a toy trunk in my bedroom. It's neat, it's got a trunk inside of it!". Draco took great interest in the trunk, and in the tree house, but he also wondered why Emily's parents were never seen. The only adult in sight was her Grandmother, who rarely came outside to hang up the laundry, a happy grin also displayed between her two chubby cheeks. Contrary to what Draco had first pictured her like, Emily's Grandmother was a very kind and stout woman who seemed almost too glad that her granddaughter had made a friend. She regularly offered homemade cookies and milk, if ever the two kids were to come into the kitchen.

But Emily, who did not seem to like to go indoors at all, insisted that it was _much_ more fun to swing all day. So Draco, wishing to do as Emily pleased, followed her insists and had a marvelous time with her.

And at the end of every day, Draco and Emily would stand next to the entrance of the tunnel, Draco facing Emily, and Emily facing Draco. Emily would ask first:

"Promise you will come back tomorrow, Draco?"

And Draco would always answer:

"Promise."

Then they would shake each other's hand, for the hug on the first night had felt too awkward for the both of them, and Draco would descend the tunnel, and Emily would turn and wait for only about 5 minutes, or until she was convinced that Draco would be safe. Then, she would turn and return to her house. And the next morning, Draco would follow his promise and return again.

* * *

It was a drizzly Thursday, much like Monday had been. Draco had gotten up early again, and had gotten dressed, before realizing that it was rather stormy outside.

"Draco, son,' Lucius's voice was steady and cool. 'Oh good, you are here. Thought you had gone off 'exploring' again." Draco froze, his back faced to his father. Was it possible that Lucius knew that Draco had left the grounds for the past three days?

"_Impossible.'_ Draco thought. '_Mother and Father never give a damn- er, dang- about where I am."_

"Anyways, Draco,' Lucius drawled cooly. 'Your Mother and I were wondering if you would like to come with us to Diagon Alley to look at racing brooms.' He glanced over to Draco's nightstand. Approaching it, he picked up a catalogue from "Quality Quidditch Supplies", the local supplier of brooms in Diagon Alley. Over all the broom photos, which were swooping above, under, and through, their respective descriptions, was a huge red circle around "The Comet 260".

_**The Comet 260**_

_**This revolutionary broomstick is truly a work of wonder. First manufactured by a lone wizard in the forests of Albania, with wood made from the unique fast-growing tree of Madagascar, the Comet 260 took 4 years non-stop to complete, when the lone wizard then presented his craft work to the Official Wizarding Committee Consisting of Matters Related to Quidditch and Unusual Broomsticks (O.W.C.C.M.R.Q.U.B for short). The O.W.C.C.M.R.Q.U.B immediately snatched the broom up and set it on the market, just in time for the Christmas in July sales. **_

_**Quantity is limited, so hurry into Quality Quidditch Supplies as quickly as you can.**_

"I was thinking, possibly,' Lucius's eyes swept over the glossy page. 'that as a reward for your quiet behavior, you would earn this. It wouldn't be a prize that you would like to simply give up, Draco, now would it?"

Draco turned to face his Father. His grey eyes stared into Draco's own. Draco hesitated; Emily or Racing broom?

"Is it possible, perhaps, that you could pick the broom up for me while I stayed at home?" Draco asked.

Lucius's face grew a look of suspicion as he made his way over to the long, thin window across from Draco's bed, not but 5 feet away from where Draco himself stood. Using his cane to pull back the drapes, Lucius sneered.

"Why,' he said. 'would you like to stay home on such a pitiful day like today?"

Draco gulped nervously. He thought of the best excuse he could think of.

"That house elf,' he sneered, identical to his Father's own. 'he may try to escape, or possibly steal some of the objects from the chamber below the Drawing room..."

Lucius's eyes widened with surprise, his mouth drawn in a small line.

"How did you-" he began, but Draco interrupted by simply shrugging. Lucius' face broke into a grin; or rather, a slightly triumphant look that gave the impression that he was in a great deal of pain.

"That's my boy' he said proudly. 'One day, you will take your Father's place and fight with the...' Lucius paused. 'Well, you'll find out soon enough."

Draco looked up at his Father, and smiled, and Lucius looked down upon his son. They stood there awkwardly for only about a minute, then Lucius patted his son on the shoulder, and left the room.

Draco peered out of the window. From there, he could see his Mother taking his Father's arm, and the disapparated from view.

Draco sat there for a while, looking out the window into the rain. He suddenly realized the reason why he had opted to stay home; because of Emily. Emily, the girl with the big brown eyes. Emily, the girl with the swing set. Emily, the girl who made Draco's insides go tingly.

Draco hurried down the stairs and rushed past Dobby the house-elf.

"Where is Master Draco going?" cried Dobby anxiously, as Draco struggled with the back door handle.

"None of your business, house-elf.' Draco answered harshly. 'Now if Mother and Father come home, tell them that I found you trying to steal Dark objects from the basement, and that I told you to punish yourself by...' He glanced around as he turned the door handle. '...by hitting yourself upon the head with a candlestick in the Parlor."

And so, Draco ran off, leaving Dobby whimpering and confused.

* * *

Draco ran the entire length of the tunnel. As wizards are naturally faster than Muggles, Draco was able to make the end of the tunnel within 15 minutes. Once he exited the tunnel, Emily rushed up to him, a big umbrella in hand.

"Oh, Draco.' she fussed. 'I was so worried you wouldn't come; all this time, I thought to myself: '_What if he's hurt?' 'What if he's found another girl?''What if he's lost?'_"

She took his arm, and led him to the side of the house.

"What took you so long, anyways?" she asked, her voice suddenly impatient and worried.

"Erm, my Father wanted me to go shopping to buy me a new broom.' Draco answered, slightly confused. 'Emily, aren't we going on the swing set?"

Emily giggled. Draco's insides tingled.

"No, silly.' she answered, her voice back to normal. 'It's too wet; we'll play in the treehouse. Besides, Granny has been reading me some fairy tales that we could act out."

Draco's head swarmed with questions. What was a '_treehouse_'? What were _'fairy tales'_?

"Come on, Draco." Emily persisted. Draco looked around, but couldn't see her.

"Up here, silly!" Emily giggled again. Draco titled his head back. Emily was climbing up the tree to get to the top, where her minituare house was.

"So this is a treehouse, because it is a house in a tree?" asked Draco, projecting his voice to where Emily had climbed.

"Of course, silly.' her voice answered from above. 'Now just climb up before you get soaked!"

Draco did as he was told. Reacing the top, he climbed into the treehouse, which was very nice and comfy. It had two squishy seats in the corner, with enough rugs on the floor to cover the wood, and drapes over the windows and the door to keep the rain out. There was a single shelf across from the door, where only a few books were piled.

"This is amazing." Draco commented, looking around.

Emily blushed.

"Thanks,' she answered, turning in her seat to reach for one of the books. 'My dad made it; I told you that. And my Mum decorated the inside. I don't really ever use this treehouse, but when I was younger, I would sleep in here with Dad and Mum. But Granny doesn't like me sleeping in here anymore, she says its too dangerous."

Draco didn't quite know what to say, so he sat in the seat opposite Emily's, and listened.

"I don't feel like talking about Mum or Dad anymore,' Emily paused. 'so let's play fairy tales. Which one do you want to act out; my favorites are _Sleeping Beauty_ and _Cinderella_."

"What are those?' Draco asked, slightly revolted. '_Cinderella_; what's that, a disease?"

"No.' answered Emily, looking hurt. 'It is a wonderful fairy tale, and if you don't want to act it out, Draco, then you can just go back home." Emily shut her book and turned away from Draco, her arms folded and her mouth pouting.

"Oh, no, Emily, I'm sorry,' Draco apologised. 'Listen, why don't we act out _Sleeping Beauty_; but because I'm a boy, I haven't heard these stories. So you will have to explain them to me while we go along."

Emily's face brightened.

"Okay!' she said. 'And we only have to do the lastest part, because the other parts have a really scary fairy in them, that turns into a dragon."

"A dragon? That's so cool!' said Draco, but Emily's sudden upset look on her face told him to think otherwise. 'I mean, er- it's scary, yeah."

"Okay.' Emily started. 'The story of Sleeping Beauty is really simple. There is this girl who is born, then they have a big birthday party for her. At her birthday party, her Mum and Dad choose a future husband for her. His name is Prince Phillip, only I can't remember if he is a prince yet."

"Anyways,' she continued. 'then the 3 fairies come and give her presents. But then, this one fairy comes, only she did not have an invitation. So she says that when the baby turns sixteen, she will poke her finger on a spinning wheel and die."

Emily paused for effect. Draco, taking the hint that she wanted a big reaction, gasped.

"But the blue fairy, she still has to give the princess her present. So instead of making her die when she turns sixteen, the fairy makes her fall into a sleep where she can only wake from a kiss. So then, the princess' Mum and Dad send her to live with the 3 good fairies so she is safe. Then the princess turns sixteen and then she goes to the castle, where the bad lady makes her touch the spinning wheel. Then her future husband, Prince Phillip, hears she needs to be woken up by a kiss, so he goes to the castle. Except the bad fairy turns into a dragon and then he has to fight her."

Emily finished.

"Well, what happens?" asked Draco, who was surprisingly quite caught up in the story.

"Oh, the bad guy dies and the good guy wins.' answered Emily as casually as if she were discussing rice pudding. 'But now is the part that we are going to act out. Please get out of your beanbag."

Draco paused for a moment before realizing that a _beanbag_ was the seat he was sitting in. Emily took hers from where she was sitting, then placed them next to each other.

"This is my bed,' she said, turning to face a confused Draco. 'because I'm the Sleeping Princess, and you get to be Prince Phillip."

"What do I do, then?" asked Draco, still unsure where this was going.

"Well, it's quite simple.' Emily answered, sitting down on her beanbag bed. 'You just killed the evilest fairy in all the kingdom, just to save your true love- that's me- from dying forever."

"How do I save you, then?" Draco asked, still very confused.

"Duhhh,' Emily said. Draco had no idea what 'Duh' meant, but the way Emily said it was not very nice. 'you are supposed to give me a kiss, so that I don't die."

"Oh.' said Draco. 'What's a kiss?"

"Draco!' Emily answered, slighlty exasperated. 'Please can we play now, before Granny comes and makes us go inside?"

Draco shrugged, then made his way to the corner opposite from Emily's 'bed'.

"Ah ha!' he announced in a voice that he imagined a Prince would use. 'I have killed the bad fairy, and now have to save the beautiful princess!." He walked cautiously over to the bed, and looked down upon Emily's peaceful face. Draco knealt down.

"So I will now wake her with a kiss!" Draco announced to no one, except maybe Emily. He leaned in, but almost butted heads as Emily lifted hers.

"Draco!' she pouted. 'You aren't supposed to say just 'a kiss', you have to say 'true love's kiss'. Can you please do that again?" Draco nodded and Emily lowered her head and closed her eyes.

Draco leaned in over Emily. She smelled like stawberry ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He hesitated, no knowing what do do.

"Make lemon lips.' Emily whispered out of the corner of her mouth. 'Like if you just ate something sour."

Draco puckered his lips, and moved closer until he was practically kissing Emily, when she said:

"Close your eyes, Draco!"

Draco had had it. He got up.

"Emily, I'm sorry, but I don't want to play this if you are going to keep bossing me around." He tried to sound gentle, but Draco was still rather angry.

Emily did not pout, nor did she whine. Instead, she moved her bean bag back to the original corner, and sat in it.

"I'm sorry, Draco.' Emily answered quietly. ' I guess- I guess I just wanted it to be perfect."

As Emily sat there, her eyes downcast and her hands clasped in her lap, Draco felt a great sense of remorse.

"_Draco, you git, how could you have down that to Emily?'_ he thought to himself. _'Now she'll never let you come here again; she will never love you again._"

But Draco ignored his thoughts. The only thing that crossed his mind was poor Emily, sitting in a corner, tears dripping off her nose.

Draco strode across the tiny room, knelt down so they were eye-to-eye, puckered up, and kissed Emily on the lips.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the long chapter: I actually had more stuff to put in, but since this chapter is already 2,502 words long, I think I'll save the stuff for the next chapter, which will take place immediately after the events at the end of this chapter. btw, to those who might be curious, since Draco and Emily are only 8, their kisses are just little pecks on the lip, but I didn't want to put "peck"in the story, because it makes me think of chickens. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've got the day off tomorrow so I will most likely be working on Chapter 7 (and posting it) tomorrow.


	7. All The Excuses In The World

_**A/N: This part was originally supposed to be in Chapter 6; but because it was so long (over 2,000 words! I really admire all you guys who stuck with it and read it all the way through.) I'm continuing Chapter 6 into Chapter 7. Enjoy! :) **_

* * *

_**Chapter 7: All The Excuses In The World**_

It was a short kiss, a small one, insignificant to anyone over the age of eleven, but to Draco, who had never kissed anyone but his mother on the cheek, those few few seconds where his lips had met Emily's meant the world to him. He sat back and looked at Emily, a happy grin on his face.

Emily, however, was looking slightly shocked.

"Draco,' she started finally, after a few moments of silence. 'What......why......how......"

Draco sat there, slightly dumb-founded, waiting for Emily to say a proper sentence, and not just random words.

Emily closed her mouth, looking frustrated. Then she got up from her bean bag, sat next to Draco, and gave him a hug.

"Draco,' she said. 'Thank you."

Draco did not say "You're Welcome"; nor did he say anything, in fact. He just sat there and put his arm around Emily's shoulder. They sat there, her head on Draco's shoulder, his hand on her shoulder, listening to the patter of rain on the roof.

"So does that mean...' Draco started, slightly absent-minded. 'does that mean that you like me, too?"

Emily giggled and crawled over to the shelf.

"Of course, silly.' she said, while choosing a large book and opening it on her lap. 'A kiss is how two people can tell that they like each other."

Draco moved over to where Emily sat cross-legged. He looked over her shoulder, seeing a large photo of a smiling man and woman.

"This is a picture of my Mum and Dad, on their wedding day.' Emily announced. 'They were married in July, in the year 1979. Then exactly a year later, I was born."

Emily gazed at the picture a little longer, then shut the book.

"I sure do miss them." she sighed.

"What happened to them, Emily?" Draco asked, his voice quiet and calm. She hugged her knees close to her body.

"I don't like talking about it." Emily confessed quietly. But Draco was curious.

"Come on, Em,' he persisted. 'Tell me."

Emily looked quite uncomfortable, but finally gave in as Draco kept persisting.

"Well, it all happened when I was almost one,' she began. 'I was at home-"

"Emily, dear, come in now. You'll catch a terrible cold if you stay out here!" Emily's Grandmother's voice was full of worry.

"Yes, Granny!' Emily yelled back. In a much quieter voice, she turned to Draco. 'I'm sorry Draco, but you should go home now." She turned and started to climb down the ladder.

"But...' Draco was frustrated. Why wouldn't Emily stay long enough to tell him about where her parents were? He was deathly curious, and could not stand to wait.

Draco eventually climbed down the ladder. Emily had already gone into her house.

* * *

Draco did not return to Emily's house the next morning. Although he was very curious to hear what had happened with Emily's parents, his parents had started setting up for their dinner party that night. Lucius insisted that Draco follow his every move that morning; although Lucius claimed that he was simply teaching Draco the proper construction of a dinner party, Draco suspected that his father was simply trying to keep him within five feet at all times.

Finally, when the sixth hand on the great Grandfather clock reached the eighth moon with the snake twined around it, Draco was freed by his mother, who requested he go straight to his room and change into his dress robes.

So Draco climbed the stairs and opened his bedroom door. Hanging from his wardrobe, instead of his old set of black dress robes, was a new pair: green silk, with a high collar. Draco groaned quietly: they were the ugliest dress robes he had ever seen. But he knew that if he didn't wear them, his parents would throw a fit.

So Draco put his robes on as quickly as possible. He shut his bedroom door, and hurried again to the big picture window at the end of the hall. He could see Emily's house from there; not at all clearly, but he could still see it, nevertheless. A tiny yellow dot was in the backyard; Emily was on her swingset. Draco closed his eyes and the fragrance of sweet strawberries came to him. Her big brown eyes flashed cheekily in his head.

"Draco, our guests have arrived!' called Narcissa from the front entrance.

Draco opened his eyes, but did not go back downstairs. Instead, he stared at the tiny yellow dot that was swinging back and forth.

'_Maybe I could dash over there after dinner._' Draco thought. '_I don't want her to think that I am avoiding her, and that I am a big git."_

"Draco, please come now!' Narcissa called once more; her voice now had a commanding tone to it.

Draco reluctantly tore himself away from the window, but not without one last fleeting glimpse of Emily. Tingles started in Draco's chest as he went down the Grand staircase.

* * *

"So you're Vincent Crabbe, then?"

One hour and fifteen minutes later, Draco was sitting next to the large oak chair at the head of the table in the dining room. Across from him sat two of the toughest boys he had ever seen: although his mother had assured Draco that the boys were his age, Draco still had a hard time believing her, and would have very much appreciated the presentation of their birth certificates.

The shorter of the two boys, who had a pudding-bowl haircut and a flat nose, grunted in agreement. Draco turned to the other boy; he was very tall with short, bristly hair that almost met his eyebrows.

"So you're...Gregory Goyle, then, is that right?" The other boy grunted, as Vincent had done, and crossed his thick arms. The three stood in silence; finally, Draco spoke.

"Right then, well, er, I've got to go to the loo, so hold on a second.' he announced, and stood up to escape out the door. Draco made a face to himself; all the excuses in the world and he had to use '_I've got to go to the_ _loo_'? But Vincent and Gregory seemed to have bought it, and that's all that mattered to Draco. Well, that and seeing Emily before the day was through.

* * *

Draco was exiting the tunnel when he was discovered.

"Draco!" cried a girl's voice.

He winced.

"_Damn- I mean, darn- it, Mother's caught me."_ But to Draco's surprise, it was not a harsh hand that came in contact with his shoulder; it was a gentle one. It was Emily's.

Draco was relieved; his grey eyes met Emily's brown ones, which were studying him.

"What are you wearing?' she asked. Draco gaped; he had forgotten to change out of his dress robes.

'Never mind that,' Emily continued before Draco had a chance to think of an excuse. 'Why didn't you come to see me this morning?"

Draco, who had just closed his mouth from a moment ago, gaped again. He closed his mouth, though, in an effort not to look like a Grindylow forced to surface from the deep pond below it.

"Never mind that. I'm just glad you're here." Emily rattled on, and gave Draco a kiss on the lips. He blushed, and Emily giggled. Draco's insides tingled again, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek, which made Emily blush harder than Draco.

"Wot's this we see then, Goyle?" asked a voice that seemed to come from nowhere. Draco turned his head, and Emily shrieked. Vincent and Gregory had climbed out of the tunnel. Draco rose slowly.

"What are you doing here, Vincent and Gregory?" he asked cautiously. The sound of a tree-branch snapping startled all four children.

"I have been wondering the same thing about _you_, Draco" sneered Lucius Malfoy.

* * *


	8. Not A Very Nice Thing to Call Somebody

Chapter 8: Not A Very Nice Thing To Call Somebody

* * *

Draco gaped for a third time that night. His father smirked and advanced towards Draco and Emily while two big, surly men popped up behind him.

"Well, well, Draco,' Lucius sneered. 'I believe we've solved the mystery of where you've been sneaking off to." The two men behind Lucius snickered and chuckled deeply. Lucius shot them a nasty look, and they became stone faced once more.

"How did you know I was here, Father?' Draco asked in a grand voice, trying his best to hide his timidness.

"My, my, Draco, ' Lucius answered. 'It was simple. I had your little friends and the house-elf follow you here; I've suspected you of being up to something ever since you snuck off last week. When Gregory and Vincent found you not ten minutes ago, they sent the house-elf back to alert me."

Draco scowled at his father. He could not believe how low Lucius had gone to follow him, to invade his privacy.

Lucius grey eyes switched focus from Draco to Emily, who was still kneeling on the ground.

"Well, well,' he said, kneeling down to her level. 'Who's this, then, son?' Draco refused to answer him.

"They was kissing, Mistur Malfoy! We sees them!" announced Goyle proudly, with a stupid grin, as if he had just won a lifetime supply of sweets for being the world's largest and thickest git. Draco scowled at him, and Goyle returned to being stony-faced.

"Father, please don't do anything to her. She did nothing wrong!" Draco pleaded. He tried to step forward, but a hand that was suddenly clamped to his elbow, stopped him.

Lucius did not reply to Draco's pleas; instead, he remained crouched less than two feet away from Emily. His cold grey eyes swept over Emily's face. Draco stood back. There was nothing that he wanted to do more right now than protect Emily; to wrap his arms around her protectively and to tell his father: _"Leave Her Alone."_

But Draco was being held at the elbows, and could not move.

"What's your blood status, girl?' Lucius asked a moment later, coolly as ever, as if he was asking her what color her hair was.

Emily looked confused.

"I- I think I'm O-positive.." she stammered nervously. 'I mean, my-my Mum and Dad were, and my Grandmother says I am, too..."

Both the man clutching Draco's elbow, and the man standing cross-armed behind Lucius scoffed loudly. Draco jumped at the sound, while Lucius merely smirked.

"Stupid girl," he said. Draco's insides tingled; but this time with rage.

"EMILY'S GOT TWICE THE BRAINS YOU DO!" Draco cried, trying to wiggle his away from the tight grasp on his elbow; instead, the grasp became tighter, and the other hand of the surly man behind Draco slapped his hand on Draco's mouth. The hand was smelly, and pinched Draco's lips. As his hand became numb from lack of circulation, Draco tried to bite the man's fingers, only to get pinched even more.

While the other occupants of the field had all turned to Draco, Lucius remained focused on Emily. He smirked, apparently deaf to Draco's insult.

"Are you a witch, or aren't you?" Lucius asked plainly. Emily looked offended.

"That's not a very nice thing to call someone." she responded.

It was at that point that Draco had an epiphany: Emily wasn't a witch. He had never even bothered to ask her, and had simply assumed that she was.

Lucius seemed to have had the same thought as Draco, though while Draco'ss facial expression was slowly stretching into surprise, Lucius' face was beginning to grin in a malicious way, while still staying cool and collected.

Emily's eyes grew as wide as saucers, as if she had realized suddenly that she had said something very, very wrong in the prescence of the very, very wrong people.

* * *

**A/N:** I tried to refrain from making this Chapter too wordy. The next Chapter will be a continuation of these events. I believe that there will be only 10 chapters total in the story. I've been trying to figure out how to connect my story here, which is obviously non-Canon, as I am neither J.K. Rowling, nor Draco Malfoy, writing a memoir; I think I have figured it out.

As for other HP stories, I'm going to start a collection of one-shots dealing with many various relationships of the Harry Potter universe, all modeled after a Beatles song. It is mainly a character expirement, and I will be using both characters that were paired in the books, characters that could have been paired in the books, and perhaps other random pairings. Any suggestions to songs or pairs are welcome; just as long as you send it through personal message and don't review about it on this story. As for "Something of An Outcast", I'm going to postpone Chapter 2 until I finish the final two chapters of "Falling Slowly", which should be finished between mid-October or early-November, depending on how often I get onto Word. :)


	9. Own Good

_**Chapter 9: Own Good **_

Lucius raised his arm, wand held possesively between the thumb and index finger. However, it was not at Emily to whom the wand was pointing: it was pointing to Draco.

"How dare you befriend a Muggle, Draco.' Lucius sneered icily. Draco frowned at his Father from behind the surly man's hand. How Draco loathed him. Draco struggled to remove the man's hand from over his mouth. By some miracle, he succeeded.

"Father!' Draco cried, wrestling with the man's forearm, which was trying desperately to silence Draco. 'Don't hurt her! She did nothing wrong! Leave her _alone_!" Tears formed in Emily's eyes as Lucius pointed his wand down at her.

Draco couldn't take it anymore. He kicked his foot back as hard as possible into the large man's shin, and darted over to Emily's side before any of his Father's accomplices knew what was happening.

"Draco, get out of the way if you know what's good for you.' Lucius stood tall over both Draco and Emily, who were both crouching on the ground. Draco did not stand, for his legs were wobbling very much and would not be able to stand on their own.

"No, Father.' Draco answered boldly. 'You must promise that Emily will be safe."

"I can't do that, Draco.' Lucius replied cooly. 'For you see,' he guided Draco up from the ground with a firm hand on Draco's shoulder. 'The Dark Lard Voldemort will not like this infatuation of yours. He will take it into his own hands, and your friend may end up severley injured. It is for her own good that I deal with her before the Dark Lord does."

Draco nodded mindlessly: the words being spoken by Lucius made complete sense to him. Yes, it was best to let Father deal with Emily before the Dark Lord does. With the thought guiding him, Draco turned from his Father and made his way back to his own home.

____________________________________________________________________________________

It is unfeasible to try to calculate how much time passed from the moment where Draco headed home, to the moment where his Mother awoke him in his bedchamber. Draco certainly did not know: but he did know that he was feeling groggy, confused, and also a little bit hungry.

"Draco,' Narcissa shook him awake gently. 'Son, its best you know what has happened."

Draco sat up quickly in his bed.

"Your Father has decided that it would be best for him to go on a small, peaceful leave,' she announced. Small slivers of tears came to her eyes; this reminded Draco of someone else, but who exactly, he could not recall.

'So for the next few weeks, it will be you and I, Draco." Narcissa smiled feebily, still holding back tears. She rose slowly from the bedside, but froze when Draco asked:

"What happened to Emily?"

A grim expression overcame Narcissa's pale face. Draco watched her anxiously as she sat back down on the emerald green duvet.

"Last night, after you had left, Draco,' Narcissa spoke clearly, though in a downcast voice. 'Emily confessed that she simply never liked you. She said it was all rea- er, rather, it was all an act she came up with to amuse herself. She finished by announcing that she couldn't imagine any girl liking you because of your boastful nature and of your overall pompous attitude."

Narcissa cleared her throat delicately. Draco simply gaped at this news.

"But- but- I'm not pompous, nor boastful, am I, Mother?' Draco asked fearfully, watching his Mother's face impatiently. Narcissa got off the bed, kissed Draco's untidy blonde hair, then shook her head. Without uttering another word, she left the room.

Draco sat back in his bed for a while, and simply contemplated what he should do. Writing an angry Owl to Emily came to mind, before he remembered that she was a Muggle and not able to understand the process of Owls for communicaton.

Nothing else came to Draco's mind. Sighing, he flipped over the duvet covering his legs, and made his way to the mirror. He slicked back his hair, and left the room.


	10. A Billion Times Better

**A/N: **Last chapter of "Falling Slowly"! More of PansyxDraco and DracoxHermione and set in fourth year.

Epilogue: A Billion Times Better

"Well, of course you'll be escorting _me_ to the Yule Ball, Draco,' Pansy Parkinson drawed nasily, her black eyes shining. Draco sat opposite of Pansy at the Slytherin house table: it was late afternoon and many students were gathering in the Great Hall early for dinner. Draco sat with his back against the wall: it was his favorite spot because it gave him a wide view of everyone. Not to mention the head rest the wall provided during Dumbledore's long and winding lectures.

"Draco?' Pansy prompted. Her Cheshire Cat grin was fading slowly and her eyes were narrowing. Draco's attention was not on Pansy: instead, his eyes drifted three tables down, to the other side of the massive room. The Gryffindor table stretched as wide as the Slytherin table, and was identical to the four other tables in the Hall. At one end, two red-haired twins grinned in a way not unlike Pansy was a moment before, though their smiles were much more genuine: at the other end, sat a mixed cluster of students from all three schools. But neither of those groups drew in Draco's attention, though he admittedly had a difficult time pulling his eyes away from that Veela from Beauxbatons.

It was, in fact, a boy who drew in Draco's attention.

Across the room from Draco sat a young man named Harry Potter, age 14, and the youngest Triwizard Tournament champion to have set foot on the planet. Draco narrowed his eyes as Harry grinned at the boy across the table, a poor red-head who thrived on Harry's fame. The girl next to Harry laughed, shook her head, and looked across to the other side of the Hall. Her big brown eyes sparkled and Draco caught a glimpse of their first encounter:

"_Emily?" _

_A boy, no older than eleven, strode over to the open compartment door where a girl sat. Though he appeared very self-absorbed and pompous, there was a cautiousness to the way he walked. _

_The girl frowned, her big brown eyes creasing at the corners._ _Her mouth opened slightly in confusion, revealing large front teeth._

"_I'm not Emily, I'm _**Hermione**_,' she corrected as-a-matter-of-factly. She wrinkled her nose as her eyes darted over the boy's robes. 'You'd better get dressed, those robes are positively barbaric." With a sniff, the girl looked down at her book and pushed her thick brown hair over her right ear. The boy stood there, stunned. He blushed angrily and strode away, with two ape-like boys at his heels. As he pushed his way down the narrow aisle, the boy looked at his robes, his fanciest. He smirked and shoved his way into his own compartment to change. _

Hermione, now fourteen and not at all as hideous as she had been three years ago, leaned over to her friends. Draco elongated his spine so he now sat taller than his companions and was able to gain a better view. Hermione looked back at him, and he almost grinned, before catching himself by reminding how much he hated her. Harry was looking across the room now, and Ron had turned around, his ugly face wrinkled with anger. Draco smirked at their pathetic-ness and Ron flipped him the bird.

Pansy looked back over her shoulder, where the Terrible Threesome had started a new conversation.

"Were you looking at Hermione Granger?' Pansy whimpered tearfully. 'I thought you said you hated her! So are you asking her to the ball, not me?" Tears filled up Pansy's narrow black eyes and narrowily escaped. Draco's attention snapped back to Pansy, who was blubbering like an orphaned beluga.

"That mud-blood?' Draco answered in disgust. 'I'd rather kiss my dead Grandmother before I ask Granger to the ball, Pansy. She's filthy, she's a muggle, she's-' Draco hesitated. '-not you."

Pansy squealed with delight, flailing her hands and hitting a first year passing between tables.

A loud slam came from the Gryffindor table and the whole Hall turned to watch Hermione Granger shouting.

"Some nerve you've got Ron Weasley, asking me as a last resort: I'll have you know that someone's already asked me!"

Hermione's face was red as she stormed from the Hall, causing Pansy to burst into giggles.

"Wonder who'd ask her: probably Longbottom...' Pansy sniggered. Draco sneered, but was having another flashback to when he had felt like Weasley did at that moment:

"_Emily!"_

_The boy, now aged twelve, ran after the girl, age thirteen. Classes were finished for the weekend and the halls were quickly deserted after the last periodin anticipation for supper._

"_I've told you not to call me that. It's not even my name.' scoffed the girl, brown hair whipping around her face. She walked quickly, eager to dispose of the boy who followed her. _

"_Fine, _**Granger**_.' teased the boy, and she stopped. Tiny flyaways escaped from underneath the wide brown headband in her hair and her eyebrows were raised in exasperation. _

"_What do you want, Draco?' the girl was kind to allow the boy time to speak, so he plunged._

"_I was wondering if you'd like to study with me, you know, sometime this weekend.I just joined the Quidditch team, but I could try to work around that.' The boy's grey eyes were wide with anticipation. _

_The girl looked surprised, and stood speechless for a moment. Then she resumed her fast pace and the boy was forced to jog after her. _

"_No, Draco.' she told the boy. He persisted. But she resisted._

_After several more attempts, she stopped once more. Out of breath from jogging and pleading, the boy panted gently as he stopped, too. _

"_Look, Draco, I don't know why you'd even ask me.' the girl said gently, thouh she was clearly annoyed. 'You hate my friends, and they hate you. You're never nice to me, and you always call me 'Emily'. It is frankly getting on my nerves, and it would be best if you just stopped, alright?"_

_The boy was at a loss for words: only once in his life had he been this rejected. The girl bit her lip and held back tears of fury. _

" _Draco, you're over pompous, you're boastful, you've always got that stupid hairstyle. Frankly, I can't even imagine us as friends, let alone as dating.' The girl turned and kept walking. _

"_Don't even try to follow me, Malfoy.' she added. 'I can't ever see any sensible girl liking you, so just _leave me alone_." The girl broke off into a ran and left the boy standing alone._

"So Draco, you're taking me right?' Pansy's over-sickly voice cut into Draco's thoughts, and he snapped back to reality.

"Course I'm taking you, Pansy.' he sneered, rolling his eyes for good measure. He ran his hands through his hair and added: 'You're a billion times better than that Mudblood."

Fin

**A/N:** So what do you think? Now that my baby is finished, keep an eye out for my two other stories ("Something of an Outcast" and "All You Need Is Love") because they'll be getting major updates soon.


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